On Courses and Clinics: A Dental Student’s Path to Rural Medicine

Sharing his story is Branden Franzen, a student at the Lake Erie College of Osteopathic Medicine, School of Dental Medicine.

Every autumn, the same question echoes through university hallways: “So, how was your summer break?” For many, the answer is obvious—vacation, visiting family, long-awaited rest. But for us, students at the LECOM School of Dental Medicine, summer wasn’t a break but a turning point. We left Bradenton, Florida, where we had completed three intense years of study, and embarked on our final clinical year. Half the class went to Erie, Pennsylvania. The rest, including me, began a new chapter in the small town of DeFuniak Springs, Florida.

Farewell to the Foundation

Packing up three years of life isn’t just about textbooks and instruments. It means leaving an entire world behind. We learned from our mistakes together: from the first hesitant impressions to assisting in surgical procedures. We shared successes, failures, and sleepless nights with coffee and notes. These bonds were forged not just by hard work, but by shared emotions.

It was no less difficult to say goodbye to the mentors who guided me step by step from a novice to a clinician with confident hands. They celebrated my first successful procedures, supported me after failures, and patiently taught me until my movements became natural and assured. Their care went beyond mere pedagogy. The farewell turned out to be unexpectedly heavy—like having a safety net I’d grown accustomed to suddenly removed.

Fourth Year: A New Chapter

In DeFuniak Springs, the adaptation was brief: a couple of days to get oriented in the new place—and then patients were back in the chair. But now everything had changed. In my third year, every decision I made was checked by an instructor. Now, my treatment plans are discussed not as an exam, but as a conversation between colleagues.

This was a sharp but crucial turning point. For the first time, I felt like the lead doctor. The new clinic demanded flexibility—new mentors, new processes, new standards. But it was through these challenges that my personal growth emerged. Responsibility became a reality, and patient trust became the most significant validation.

Patients Who Changed My Perspective on Dentistry

The most important discovery awaited me not in textbooks, but in the eyes of the patients. The simple cases, like a couple of fillings and one crown, were gone. Now, I encountered complex stories: multiple tooth decay, periodontal disease, missing teeth, severe comorbidities.

Treatment planning turned into a game of chess: what to do first to relieve pain? How to stage treatment, considering finances and long-term outcomes? How to explain and involve the patient in the process? This required not only clinical logic but also the ability to listen, empathize, and persuade.

Rural practice opened my eyes. Many patients came for the first time in years. Their trust, their gratitude, showed me that access to healthcare isn’t just numbers in reports—it’s real lives. Empathy and education become an integral part of treatment.

A look into the future

This year turned out to be more than a relocation. It was a rebirth. Working with those who would otherwise go without care solidified my conviction: dentistry is not just a craft, it’s a calling. Now I know exactly where I want to go: to rural areas, where a single doctor can change the life of an entire community.

For me, the summer “break” became a bridge—from student to doctor, from theory to responsibility. And it was in this small town, among those who need help the most, that I found not only professional freedom but also my calling.